


Charlie White thinks in parentheses

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-30
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meryl and Charlie grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charlie White thinks in parentheses

_When they fall in love with a city it is forever, and it is like forever. As though there never was a time when they didn't love it. The minute they arrive at the train station or get off the ferry and glimpse the wide streets and the wasteful lamps lighting them, they know they are born for it. There, in a city, they are not so much new as themselves: their stronger, riskier selves._   
_ ~ Toni Morrison _

(because I love metaphors)

inspired by the above, and by these:

 

 

 

plus, one adorkable baby!Charlie/Meryl vid: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCAV-HewiBg

Now, on to the fic:

 

~~~

 

Charlie's seen Jeremy before, of course.

He's competed at Midwestern Sectionals enough times before that the faces grow familiar, that the boys running down the hallways in the hotels grow into something akin to friends, or maybe acquaintances might be the better word. He's glad he has Meryl with him, in any case. She's shy too, but at least when pushed, she can stand her ground. And his too, a little bit.

They went to Europe last season, Belgrade and Germany, and this year Japan and the Czech Republic. He enjoys the trips, but he wishes he had more time to explore and less time spent sitting in cold rinks, waiting his turn. This year was especially frustrating. Twice just off the podium. They're both disappointed because they know they can do better.

Jeremy's another one of the shy ones, which is one of the reasons they've actually exchanged a few words. (There's some logic in there for sure.) The thing is, Charlie keeps himself to himself during competitions. Meryl knows a few of the girls, says they might become friends if he tried - but then she mentions how one of them might be into him and he doesn't even want to meet them, then. It's too much trouble, he tells her. It would be trouble for sure, he tells himself, but knows it's neither because of the distance, nor because Meryl's the only sane girl her age he's ever met.

They come in second at Junior Nationals. Couldn't beat Matthews and Zavozin, not in any one of the dances, but that's okay. Next year, Charlie tells himself, next year. Meryl catches his gaze and smiles, knowing exactly what he's thinking.

Jeremy is seventh after the free. Charlie knows this because he watches his skate. He himself placed third in Novices this year, and after all, he has to look out for next year's competition. That, he's told Meryl, is why he wanted to go see the men.

Meryl wasn't too thrilled, and even now, she's asking to go back to the hotel, because she wants to get some rest before the gala.

"Yeah, let's go," he replies once they're off their seats. But the moment they're in the hallway, he realizes he might get to talk to Jeremy if he can time his exit right, depending on whether Jeremy will shower in the locker rooms (which he won't) and whether he'll take the second to next shuttlebus back to the hotel (which he might).

"You go ahead," he tells her, halfway to the exit, and feels himself flush. "I'll stick around for a while?"

Meryl narrows her eyes at him, but she lets it go. She's good like that. "I'll be in my room," she tells him. "And my cell's switched on if you need anything."

"Yes, _mom_." He rolls his eyes.

He loves it, secretly, to have a friend who fusses, who gives a damn. Most of the single skaters don't. Most of the single skaters are definitely single creatures, enjoying the lone life. If they were into team sports, they'd have gone to play hockey. Or if they were straight, he tells himself, and swallows. Jeremy's definitely not straight. Jeremy smiled at him from across the room yesterday at breakfast.

Meryl leaves. He misses her hand holding his elbow.

For a while, he sticks to the hallways, watching the spectators leave (the few that have shown up for the juniors competition), a low hum of chatter following them out. He tries not to look like he doesn't fit in, but then a few girls catch sight of him, and his stomach plummets because he can already see recognition dawn in one of the girl's eyes and he really doesn't enjoy this part (yet?). He's a figure skater, he knows it's part of the job, and he should be proud to be recognized, to be good-looking enough to attract them. He should enjoy the compliments, but in reality, Charlie doesn't want anything to do with these people once he's off the ice.

"You're Charlie, right?" the girl asks. "Charlie White? You did really well in your Free Dance! I loved watching you on the ice. Meryl and you, I mean."

"Thanks," Charlie mumbles.

"Can I get a picture with you?"

Charlie looks around for rescue, but no one's coming to help, so he shrugs his shoulders and finally nods his head. It's just a picture, he tells himself. It won't hurt.

If he's honest, Charlie actually quite likes having his picture taken. Meryl loves to fool around with a camera, and she always tells him how pretty he is - she has to, of course, she's his dance partner. Other people hardly ever tell him that, which he's just fine with, he doesn't like it much. It just sounds different when it's Meryl, is all. It sounds like empty flattery from anyone else; with her, it's just a fact. When she says, "oh, that looked nice, smile like that again, this picture will be really, really beautiful!", he actually believes her, because he's smiling at her, after all.

The girl's mother (maybe? they look alike) takes the camera from the girl's hand, and she presses close to Charlie, demanding that hug like it's a free for all. He winces but holds still, plasters a smile on his face until the flash's gone off. Then they all say thank you, polite and not at all rabid, which he's grateful for, and walk off, leaving him alone in the hallway. The stream of people has thinned out.

He exits the building, steps outside and listens to the cars speed past on the main street. It's chilly, but not really cold, so he just pulls his jacket tighter around himself and wishes he smoked, just because it'd give him something to do with his hands. Jeremy told him once he does the same thing, fidgeting because he needs something to do with himself that doesn't involve quoting funny book passages out into the air. So Charlie does what Jeremy told him he's been doing: he pulls out his cell phone and opens a text message.

He types a few letters, almost at random; when he blinks and looks down, it says ' _I think I might be gay_ ', in dark font against a white background. His thumb hovers over 'send' as he hesitates. She deserves to know, he knows that. But he's sixteen and everything changes so fast.

People leave the Arena, doors opening and closing. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices Jason Wong, and then Ben Woolwine. Ben and Charlie skate in the same club, so Ben waves in his direction, and Charlie waves back; it's compulsory. They don't talk to him, though. The doors open again. It's definitely the skaters trickling out now, one after another, he sees Tommy, who's pretty nice, they're on the same hotel room floor and he always calls a friendly hello, which Charlie echoes, smiling back.

And then there's Jeremy.

Charlie opens his mouth, forgets the text message he wanted (didn't want) to send. Now, he just wants to say 'Hi' like he called out to Tommy seconds ago, he just wants to - maybe wave (but waving seems so stupid and juvenile suddenly) and every sound he wants to make gets stuck in his throat, which closes up on him, his cheeks flooding with color so that he has to duck his head to hide it.

Then he realizes Jeremy's not alone; there are other people surrounding him, Ryan Bradley, and another boy, and Lauren Hennessey, and they all probably skate together at one club, and behind their group, Jeremy's mom and his coach and they're all talking and laughing among each other.

Charlie hides deeper in his jacket and steps out of the way to let them pass.

When they're gone, he takes up his cell phone again, deletes the message. He waits two more minutes, and then follows so he can catch the shuttlebus and sit in the far front where no one'll bother him; he'll be able to write down some more chords in his notebook and maybe, he'll finally start learning the guitar this summer.

 

~~~

 

Charlie breaks his leg and Meryl wants to kill him. She acts like she doesn't but in reality, she's mad as hell, which makes her really frosty and half the time, she doesn't even speak with him.

The evening of the Free Dance at Nats, they watch together on the little computer screen that she's brought, and when he jokes that they would have totally won this year if he wasn't so horribly bed-ridden, she tells him, "It's just a fucking broken leg, it's not like you're lying here with brain disease, though one might think you've had that since the day you were born. And also, fuck you for preferring hockey to Nationals with me."

He's seen Meryl this furious before, notably back when he made that bet with Timothy that he could climb the tree behind Timothy's parents' house - it's been two years since that. He fell off, of course, but back then, he didn't break anything, just sprained his wrist and it hurt for weeks. She made him skate with it anyway, because she's Meryl. Sometimes, Charlie thinks that if she ever breaks a leg, she'll skate with it anyway, just to show him that she's tougher than he is.

He puts his chin to his chest and stares glumly at the hospital sheets, and she takes her computer and leaves. After that, Charlie wallows in self-pity. He would do guilt, but guilt hurts more, and his leg hurts a lot, so he's well-punished for being stupid and playing hockey with his friends instead of practicing triple axels and lifts with Mer.

The next day, the nurse brings him a letter and says someone sent it to him to the hospital. Inside, there's a get-well card. It reads,

 _Dear Charlie,  
 ~~I know we~~ I learned that you're in the hospital. I hope whatever it is, it's not grave and you get better soon. ~~I missed y-~~ I noticed you weren't competing in the Dances, which made them half as interesting as they usually are. I look forward to next season and seeing Meryl and you compete again._   
There is a little pig face beneath the text, with wings, and _Jeremy_ written below.

Charlie grins like a maniac for the rest of the day, and when Meryl returns that evening with some home-made soup and a new book for him, she finds it, reads it, and then smacks him over the head with the book, saying, "You could have told me."

He can hear the insecurity in her voice and says, "I'm not sure. I - I mean. I'm sure. That I. I mean. I think I like him? But not about the other stuff. And."

Meryl gives him a tight smile and hands over the book after all. "Once you've figured it out..."

Charlie smiles back gratefully. "You'll be the first person I tell. I promise."

He dreams of kissing Jeremy a few nights later, and maybe doing a little more, and then again, once he's back home, waking to a raging erection. He jerks off to the thought of Jeremy sucking his dick and can't get the image out of his head for days.

His first kiss with a boy is hardly worth mentioning, except it's rather good, better than the two or three girls he's tried it with, and it's one of the guys from his hockey team who makes the first move when they're happy-drunk one evening during a camp-out behind the old-station building.

This time, he sends the text off, with the exact same message as before. Meryl writes back, ' _I know_.'   
And of course she does.

 

~~~

 

Before the senior men's short at Sectionals, Charlie runs into Jeremy. This time, it's not planned. That's one of the reasons Charlie stumbles over a hesitant hello and has no idea what to say when awkward silence falls between them. The other reason is that Meryl's not here. They don't need to compete at Sectionals in Dance, they got a free pass to Nationals.

"So, uhm," Jeremy says, while at the same time, Charlie blurts, "Thanks for the card!"

Jeremy blinks before his face transforms into one big smile.

Charlie ducks his head, runs his hand through his hair. He's been growing it out for a few weeks, and quite a few people have complimented him on it, saying it makes him look more interesting. It sounds backhanded, but he knows he's looked boring forever, so he doesn't take it askew.

He might be growing a little bit vain.

Jeremy's babbling. "I wasn't sure if I got the hospital right, but I asked your coach when I saw him at Nats, and, like. He told me, so I figured you'd get it. I didn't mean to - I thought you'd like it, maybe, but I wasn't sure if it wasn't too, like, I'm not a creepy stalker, is all I wanted to say with that, and also, good luck on your skate later?"

Charlie has to laugh. "Breathe," he teases, amused.

Jeremy reddens. "I can stay under water for three minutes without breathing," he points out with a sheepish grin.

Charlie grins back stupidly, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He'd like to say 'prove it' and kiss him for three minutes, but he's not brave enough, so he just keeps dreaming about sex and Jeremy above him, red-faced and panting and rocking their hips together.

 

~~~

 

They win Junior Nats early the next year, and he only places ninth in singles, and when they win bronze at Worlds, he realizes he has to make a choice. He thinks about the people he's met, about the chances he's had and will have, and he realizes he's never fit in into men's singles, and that he won't lose Meryl, not ever, not if he can skate with her until they're fifty and wrinkly and old enough to make jokes about how everything was better when they were young.

He also thinks that Ice Dancers are kind of cool. He's been in love with Ben since he's met him, sexy ponytail and wicked sense of humor aside, he's just amazing. Bates is extremely funny and they found out that they don't live all that far apart. He loves his hockey boys, but he'd never live with them. When Evan offers to share an apartment at college, he jumps at the chance.

"We should concentrate on the Dance," he tells Meryl, finally.

She looks at him, unsurprised, and smiles, like she's proud of him. When he tells Ben, Ben laughs and tousles his locks and tells him he's looking forward to their face-offs.

 

~~~

 

But then, things don't go exactly to plan. First, Charlie finds himself with a boyfriend of dubious origin. He's not quite sure how they became boyfriends, but after they've kissed a few times, Mac starts to hang around and then they have a few movie dates and like, Charlie is still surprised every time he gets to grope on the couch, because a few months ago, Mac didn't even know he existed. Well, technically, they went to high school together four years, but they weren't exactly in the same social groups.

Two weeks later, they break up, because Charlie's life is at the rink and Mac might have been popular and the all-around fave at school, but in reality, he's just _boring_. They have a few good orgasms together, though.

"You're getting all self-confident," Meryl says after one particularly good session, taking off her boots. She's not looking at him.

"What?" Charlie blinks.

Meryl shoots him a wicked little grin. "You. Flirting with random boys and - you know. You should try channeling that into your program components."

Charlie sticks his tongue out at her. Then Tanith plops down beside Meryl and grins up at him. "Wow," she says. "You're getting all self-confident now that you've gotten gay-laid a few times."

Charlie makes a face. "I hate you all."

His second boyfriend is another ice dancer boy who, sadly, is not going to sectionals anytime soon. Meryl warns him from the start that it's a _really_ bad idea. "You don't date fellow competitors," she chides and makes him lift her a few more times. "No matter that they're incredibly cute juniors with no chance at ever getting anywhere."

"We're not dating," he says and that's that.

In his mind, they're not really boyfriends anyway. In his mind, he has no idea what name to give their relationship, so he doesn't. It's not like he wants to hold hands with Don, and walk around drawing hearts around their initials or buy the guy flowers.

Anyway, since they weren't boyfriends in the first place, they can't break up, especially not because Don is a jealous little bitch telling people Charlie's got a small dick behind his back. It's incredibly stupid, too, because Charlie's had to undress in the locker rooms before with these people. They might not know his dick as intimately as Don does, but it's not like one would need a magnifying glass to see it.

Meryl snickers at him for weeks after, once she's learned what's been going on, and it puts Charlie off boyfriends for a while.

"You have to make those experiences," she tells him one evening when they're sharing yogurt and watching Lost on TV. "It's okay. It'll get better. You should try dating up, though."

"Dating up, huh?" Charlie says and wonders if Jeremy would fit that category. He doesn't ask though, even when Meryl gives him a curious look. "You're just feeling all smug because you get to date girls," he pokes, and she laughs and asks if he'd like the look of yogurt on his face.

 

~~~

 

"You've been _really_ looking forward to Nationals," Ben comments when they get to the hotel in Spokane. He looks thoughtful too, and it seems to be catching, Charlie ponders, or he's being really obvious about something. He's not quite sure about what, though.

"It's my favourite competition of the year," he says with a shrug.

Ben blinks. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Charlie thinks about that for a moment. "I guess when I broke my leg it occurred to me how much I missed it when I couldn't be there." He grins. "Maybe if we make the World Team, Worlds will become my favourite."

Ben grins back. "Going for the bronze?"

Charlie snorts. "We always go for gold." He feels accomplished when that gets Ben laughing.

 

~~~

 

They celebrate their bronze medal by jumping around, drinking lots of hideously bad champagne, being very silly, and squealing loudly. Tanith is snickering at them, Brooke is looking highly amused (and chucking back a whole bottle because apparently, she has no taste buds), Ben's laughing outright, head thrown back in mirth.

"We should all go and celebrate somewhere else," Charlie proposes finally. "We should get some more people and go dancing."

Meryl stops jumping. "No, no, we need to find somewhere where I can sit down and be an old lady."

"You were just jumping around like on drugs!" Charlie points out, mouth open.

"And now I'm tired."

"No, we should go." Ben smiles. "There should be some good places where one can sit _and_ dance in this city, right?"

Charlie beams at him. "You've always been my favourite."

"Hey!" Meryl protests and takes his glass away from him.

"You're no longer my favourite," Charlie tells her. "You take away my drinks."

"That's because the night is young and you're already drunk."

Charlie sighs. "Why do you always have to be right?"

The others are packing up, so she just rolls her eyes and throws back his drink. "You're a total lightweight, there's barely any alcohol in this stuff."

"You won't be my favourite for a long time."

"You wound me." Meryl pets his arm. "So - who else did you want to invite?"

Charlie feels himself coloring. "We should just get going," he says.

"Guys," Meryl calls after Tanith and Brooke. "Give me a minute? I'll go ask a few other people to join."

"I hope everyone's got their fake IDs," Ben jokes.

Or maybe not.

 

~~~

 

"I think I love you," Charlie tells Meryl when she returns to the group ten minutes later with drunk Ryan Bradley (he's even more pissed than Charlie, and has every reason to be), Kimmie ("she is so obviously underage, we're never going to be let into any bar or club," he hears other-Ben complain) Scott, Daisuke, Emily, Alissa, Danielle, and of course Jeremy hanging onto Ryan's arm, trying not to let him fall on his face.

"Who gave this asshole so much tequila?" Scott asks, disgusted, and Ben holds out the bottle of champagne to him. "Drink. You'll feel better about being a shit skater afterwards." He's grinning. Scott glares, then throws up his arms and takes him up on the offer.

"You should go talk to him," Meryl presses when he clings to her. She's obviously trying to get away and to the other girls, possibly to talk about something horrifyingly girly like her period. Or how to get gay boys to buy curtains together. He shudders. He hates curtains. He's a roller shutter man himself. "Seriously, Charlie. Stop bruising my arm. Man up, go talk to him. He likes you."

"I'm shy," Charlie tells her in a whisper.

Meryl groans and puts her arm around him in a half-hug. "I know. You've also grown up to be freakishly gorgeous, not that you weren't perfectly beautiful before, and you're confident and a great ice dancer who's just won bronze on national level. Do I even need to give you this talk?"

So Charlie makes the elaborate plan to seduce Jeremy with his dancing skills. He hangs onto Ben till then. Ben's nice, and he doesn't mind Charlie hanging around, he likes to laugh, and Charlie can make people laugh. Sometimes. He doesn't know many jokes, but he can name twenty reasons why Lost will never solve all its plotlines, he's learning to play the piano because he sucks at guitar and he's memorized the seventy-nine most brilliant segments of the Daily Show.

"Why seventy-nine?" Ben asks him after Charlie's finished imitating Jon Stewart imitating a monkey imitating George Bush.

Charlie grins. "I had three hundred on the short list? Those are the ones that won for 'most funny'."

"Ah," Ben says as if that made any sense at all. "Tell me the one again where he meets Jake Gyllenhaal for the first time."

 

~~~

 

Charlie dances. He loves dancing, so it's little wonder he doesn't notice everyone's scattered and Meryl's nowhere to be seen, never mind Jeremy. A glance to the watch shows he's been on the dance floor for a good hour. Not far away, Tanith and Brooke are drawing in a crowd by dancing wildly (or fucking with their clothes on, some people'd say). He finds Ryan, Ben and other-Ben sitting at the bar, drinking funny-looking cocktails with pink umbrellas in them.

"We're total girls," other-Ben giggles into his glass when he sees Charlie's long look. "But it's thoroughly unfair, why do the girly drinks taste the best? Why does being a 'real man' mean I have to drink disgusting things? We need more emancipation for men."

"Glad you're standing up for our race," Ben snickers and empties his glass with one long gulp.

"Huh." Ryan blinks at Ben. "That was gone fast."

Charlie looks around helplessly, trying to spot Jeremy. He had a plan! He wanted to do some seducing tonight! He had hoped Jeremy'd see him dance and maybe join in.

Ben must have noticed his disappointment because he nudges Charlie with his elbow and pulls him close, putting his arms around Charlie's neck to rest his head on his shoulder. Charlie feels himself flush, but doesn't pull away. He knows it's just that Ben's a cuddly drunk, and he's not gay, but that doesn't help the fact that Charlie's turned on now.

"You're not looking like you want to hook up tonight," Ben says. He doesn't sound half as drunk as he should be.

Charlie shrugs against the heavy weight on his shoulder. "I guess."

Ben hums and then lets go to turn to the bartender. "Get us another round of those funny pink cocktails," he says, waving around some cash. "A stronger one for my friend here. Believe me, he needs it." The bartender gives Charlie a long look, and Charlie feels like it's plenty obvious he's not of drinking age, but then the guy just shrugs and goes to make the drinks. Charlie slumps onto one of the seats.

Half an hour later, he's swallowing water down in buckets, because while he can stand some champagne, whatever was in those cocktails just hit his head so hard he can barely see straight. He glares at Ben and gulps down another glass before handing it to him and standing up, barely hanging on to his stool.

"Where -?" Ben asks, squinting.

Charlie waves him away.

The bathroom is dimly lit with just a handful of lights on, so he hits the switch and of course, he shouldn't have done that, because obviously, there's a reason for everything, and in this case, it's Jeremy and some twink with their hands down each other's pants, making out.

Charlie feels his stomach drop in disappointment.

He feels strange as he switches the lights back off, turns around and walks out, like there's a layer of air between him and the ground. His head's swimming still, but not nearly enough to make him forget what he just saw and really, it's not like he's surprised. They see each other once a year, and Jeremy doesn't have a boyfriend as far as Charlie knows, so he's free to hook up with whomever he likes.

Meryl finds him out on the street fifteen minutes later, sitting on the pavement, contemplating suicide.

"So," he mumbles into his scarf, "what do you think, is poison too obvious? Like, only girls and gay guys kill themselves with poison, I think. Maybe I should get a gun. Someone in my vicinity should have a republican dad or uncle, right?"

Meryl sits down next to him, that soft sort of look in her eye that says she knows he's hurt and upset and won't call him a drama queen even though he deserves it. "Jeremy asked about you," she tells him.

"Yeah, well." Charlie shrugs. "Jeremy can go fuck himself."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Come on."

"Where were you?"

Meryl looks at him. "Don't try to distract me."

"I'm not. You were gone for a while. I'm interested." He smiles, kicking the ground with his heel. "Not everything needs to be about me."

Meryl gives in. "I was further in the back, Alissa found us a spot to sit down. We - talked for a while."

Charlie nods. "That sounds nice."

"It was."

They sit next to each other for a few more minutes before Charlie hops up and takes off his jacket, sliding it over her shoulders. "You're shivering. You should get back inside."

"No. No, we should head back to the hotel."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I - uhm. Already told the others good-bye from us, and that we'll see them tomorrow."

Charlie feels a rush of gratitidue that he doesn't have to go back inside, and takes her hand to squeeze it shortly before getting his cell phone to call them a cab.

 

~~~

 

Jeremy approaches Charlie and Ben the next morning on the way to breakfast. They're both quiet and heavy-lidded, still shaking off the last waves of sleep; the gala's in a few hours, and the rehearsals, while fun, are often also quite a bit of work, so they need to be fit by then. When Ben realizes what Jeremy wants, he gives Charlie a wry smile, stops him with a hand to the shoulder and heads for the elevator by himself, not before saying, pointedly, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah." Running away, Charlie guesses, would just look desperate.

"Hey," Jeremy says. He looks nervous.

"Hey." Charlie can hear himself, voice flat, and tries to call up an ounce of warmth. It's not Jeremy's fault his people-reading skills suck. He spent the minutes before falling asleep last night calling himself an idiot for hoping there might be more on Jeremy's part than friendliness. However, it's always been Charlie all along, the one waiting around in deserted hallways, acting like a little girl with a crush. Well, except for that get-well card. "Uhm," he says. "Did you get back okay last night?"

Jeremy nods. "We left shortly after Meryl and you did."

"Well, I'm sure you had plenty fun still," Charlie says before he can think, and then regrets it when Jeremy's face falls.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Jeremy says softly. "I didn't mean - it wasn't like I planned on - I never have sex in public normally, but we got a bit carried away and I didn't think anyone would come in."

Charlie swallows. "That's what you're sorry for?" He feels the hot burn of humiliation in his belly. "I thought you might..." he bites his lip to keep himself from blurting out everything. That'd just embarrass them both even more.

"What? Wait, what else would I - I..." Jeremy stares at him. "Oh. But. You. But. You never even seemed interested!"

"Yeah," Charlie bites out. "I might be a bit too subtle for you if what you're used to is making out in dirty bathrooms."

"I told you I don't do that normally." Jeremy glares, looking pale. "But hey, maybe I'm a slut? And I'm sorry if that bothers your virgin sensibilities, but it's still none of your fucking business."

"Fine. Thanks. Can we break this up and move now?"

Jeremy tries to catch his wrist, but Charlie has already drawn away and heads down the hallway towards the elevator. He doesn't even want anything, he just wants a strong coffee to get that disgusting taste off his tongue and a few more glasses of water because his head is starting to really hurt, and Jeremy's not following him, taking the stairs instead. Charlie punches the button for the hotel restaurant and it hurts. Meryl would call him a moron and then hug him, but she's not here, and he thinks maybe he should learn to deal with some of this on his own.

 

~~~

 

Four Continents's in Colorado Springs, and it goes like this: The USFSA wants to save money and quarters all skaters that aren't already from the Broadmore Skating Club in the SC's apartment complex, which is where Ryan, Jeremy and lots of other senior and junior skaters are housed during the high season. It's a merry round of skaters sleeping like tuna in a box.

Except tuna doesn't fuck in that box, one would hope, which is what Charlie and Jeremy are doing. Jeremy's bed isn't too wide, it's actually really fucking narrow; Charlie's rocking into his body fast and hard, but he has to fear with each thrust that they'll fall out of it, which is kind of great because this way, all his thoughts aren't on the fact that he's _inside_ Jeremy right now, with his dick, making him moan loudly enough that whoever has to live next door is probably getting an earful.

He just went to apologize for being a bitch. It was supposed to be a low-key and slightly humbling experience. He had not expected Jeremy to pull him inside and kiss him open-mouthed and hungry, and if that's what it means to be a slut, then Charlie's gladly shedding what is apparently a reputation of lily-white virginity.

Jeremy gives a little wail when Charlie smashes their lips together in a sloppy affair of a kiss while burying himself inside again, and again, Jeremy's legs locking around his hips to pull him even deeper, and someone thumps against the wall from the other side, yelling, "Shut the fuck up, Abbott!"

They stop mid-motion, and Charlie feels himself flush a brilliant red while Jeremy pants, staring up at him. They crack up at the same time, laughing at each other, giggles tickling Charlie's chest as Jeremy throws his head back, baring his neck.

He moans when Charlie shifts. Charlie gasps. Jeremy tightens his muscles, making him gasp again, then Charlie pulls out an inch before getting back into a rhythm, making the bed creak beneath them. Jeremy's biting down onto his lip, fighting hard not to make any more loud sounds.

It takes him a few more thrusts, getting faster and less controlled, before he lets the orgasm wash over him, coming, feeling Jeremy shudder underneath himself, their chests touching. He can feel Jeremy's come wet against his stomach, puts their foreheads together for a second before he slowly pulls out and lets himself fall onto his side, barely staying on the bed. The condom lands on the floor with a sticky sound.

Jeremy snorts. "You are so cleaning that up in a minute," he tells Charlie.

Charlie hums. "Sorry."

Some people pass outside, footsteps on the floor past Jeremy's room door. Charlie's eyes start falling shut. He curls more deeply into himself, feeling Jeremy's bodyheat against his legs, his stomach. Jeremy yawns and changes position.

"Great," he mumbles. "I'm sore and sticky and you're falling asleep."

Charlie smiles into his shoulder. "Shower later," he murmurs back. "Together."

Jeremy sighs. "One hour."

"Hm-hm."

They sleep until someone (Meryl) starts pounding on Jeremy's door, yelling at Charlie to come out or she'll kick in the door and then he'd better have an excuse for missing practice time _or else_ (and he'll also pay for the door).

Charlie falls out of the bed, hissing in pain. Jeremy laughs until he's clutching at his hurting sides.

 

~~~

 

"Oh hell, you slept with Jeremy," Meryl says later after she's punished him suitably for being a bad partner and not showing up at the rink. ("It was worse than being stood up on a date. You're supposed to be _disciplined_ , you ass!")

Charlie flushes. "I don't even know."

"You don't know if you slept with him?"

"No! No, god, I don't know what that was. He just..."

"Seduced you?"

Charlie glares when she giggles. "Shut up, that was nothing like it!"

"Oh, he totally seduced you, you big girl."

Charlie sticks out his tongue at her.

"So what are you waiting for?"

"What?"

Meryl rolls her eyes. "Go! Go meet him or something, ask him if he wants to be your boyfriend. Pick out curtains together."

"Oh, I _knew_ that was what you girls are _always_ talking about!"

Meryl grins. "We have nothing else to talk about but you and your gorgeous curtains, I assure you."

"Hmpf." He's not convinced. But she shoves at his shoulder, so he leaves the room, walks past his own and tries to find Jeremy's once more. It's not a long walk; when he knocks, Jeremy opens the door, peering out. His eyes brighten when he realizes who it is.

"Charlie! Hi!"

Charlie shrugs, runs his hand through his hair. "Uhm. So."

Jeremy smiles, all lop-sided and sweet and pulls him inside (for the second time that day).

"No, wait," Charlie says.

Jeremy grins and kisses him before stepping back. "Expecting a lot, aren't you?"

Charlie blushes. "D'you want to be my boyfriend?" he rushes out, with barely a breath between words, and feels his whole body grow tight, like during a particularly hard jump that might just end up with him splattered all over the ice.

Jeremy's grin broadens. "Yes?"

"Yeah?"

"Sure."

"Oh. That's - nice."

"Uh-huh."

For a moment, neither of them knows what to do except nod at each other like crazy people; then Charlie tackles Jeremy against the wall and kisses him, pressing their lips and chests and hips together. He feels Jeremy against himself, all hard muscles, enjoys the rush of desire through his body, and the warmth pooling in his stomach when Jeremy's arms close around his shoulders, pulling him flush.

Yep, Charlie thinks. There will be lots of loud sex in the future. His reputation is going to be _tarnished_. (He'll try hard not to be too gleeful about this).

 

~~~


End file.
